Detention, Mr Potter!
by pilas14
Summary: Detention. Slashyness. HPSS. Snarry. No OOC hehe. Typical Ron. Innocent, sleeping Harry. Rabid Snape. Fangirl lets go of all her inhibitions and writes a terrifically funny fanfiction about our favorite couple. Warning: Degenerative as story progresses.


Written as drabble but you can take it seriously if you want to. Much love to all lovers, reviewers and my boyfriend, Tony. Oneshot. Snarry warnings. Possible Snape lovers will go nutzo on me. No, I didn't remember the last book when I wrote this. To me, Severus never killed You-Know-Who and I bashed that fact out of my head with a metal baseball bat five minutes after I read it. -shrug- Just the rabid fangirl in me, I guess.

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The day started out as unfortunate as any other, unfortunately. Harry dragged himself out of bed at the crack of nine only to realize that his advanced potions class, NEWT level, was about to start in ten minutes.

It took fifteen to walk to the dungeons.

If Harry had been paying any attention, he might have noticed how much of a rabid fangirl he was being by dressing like some bad anime flick. But he didn't. All Harry cared about was being on time for a class where the professor was adamantly against his attendance in the first place.

Three minutes late, the out of breath and panting Harry Potter slid into his seat. Professor Snape was nowhere to be seen and Harry counted himself lucky to still be alive.

"Where were you, Harry?" whispered Ron, who sat next to him.

"Late getting up. Did Snape come in yet?" still slightly out of breath, Harry panted his query.

"Nope, not yet," Hermione whispered. Harry hadn't even seen her behind her gigantic volume of _Where Dead Things Are Used_. "Not that you would…"

A crash of the door opening caused everyone jumping to attention as Professor Snape made his grand entrance of the morning. His robes billowed in the same manner and his hair was still the same stringy, greasy mess it had been before, Harry noticed with a degree of disgust.

"I suppose you're all wondering why I let you dunderheads into my advanced Potion's class," Snape quipped.

No one answered.

Good choice on their part.

"I let you in because some of you are proficient. I had to fill up a classroom to keep this class in the curriculum. Let the rest be obvious to the rest of you, and keep the majority of you oblivious!" he yelled.

"Happy to see us?" Ron whispered to Harry.

Harry giggled.

"Something funny, Potter?" Snape snapped impatiently, seeming to be more cruel and nasty than usual.

Harry coughed. "Nothing is funny, sir," the boy oozed charm, trying to push some underlying sarcasm through his words.

Snape just glared and started teaching. "Who knows what we last studied…"

Harry stopped paying attention. He pulled out a piece of parchment and wrote quickly to Ron.

'He's worse than usual.' Harry wrote.

Ron nodded as he replied, 'I hope he knows he's a git."

Harry giggled when he read it. 'Wonder why though,' he replied.

Quickly, so Snape wouldn't see the parchment, Harry hid it in the folds of his robes. 'That was close,' he finished and passed it inconspicuously to Ron.

Ron now giggled as he wrote his answer. 'Slimy git with a poll up his butt so he flies around like a gigantor bat!!'

He passed the note to Harry, who luckily, had the good grace not to fall out of his chair.

'I think he has ibs.'

Ron just looked at Harry, thoroughly confused at what 'ibs' could be. '?' he wrote back.

'Irritable bowel syndrome.'

When Ron opened the parchment, he did fall out of his chair. Right at the feet of Snape.

"Oh shit," Ron muttered, blushing as red as his hair.

"Mhm, very eloquent, Mr. Weasley. Fifty points from Gryffindor for passing notes." And with that Snape plucked out the note Harry and Ron had been writing.

To Harry and Ron's horror, Snape decided to open and read it, instead of just throwing it away. He sneered horribly down at them. "I want to know what would make Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter giggle so much."

After glaring as he read the note, he turned to Harry and whispered viciously, "Detention, Potter."

That night in the common room, Ron lamented to Harry that it wasn't fair how he hadn't gotten detention too. I mean, what Ron had said wasn't nearly as funny as what Harry had said, but it was still disrespectful in it's own right.

Harry just shrugged, passing out of the portrait opening, shouting back at Ron that he should be happy he didn't have detention with Snape.

(down in the dungeons, five minutes late)

"You're early, Potter."

Harry looked up, wide eyed, trying his best to look doleful and sorry for being late. Unfortunately, he didn't know whether or not Snape even knew what doleful was supposed to look like. He stopped pouting when Snape handed him a toothbrush and pointed impatiently to a grotesquely large mound of cauldrons in the middle of the classroom.

He sighed. What a long night of work for a silly note.

Almost four hours later, midnight struck in the tall tower of Hogwarts. Snape looked up from the papers he was grading with surprise. He hadn't even noticed what time it was.

"Potter?" he leaned over his desk to get a look at the pile of cauldrons.

Harry Potter lay in the middle of the stack, sound asleep in the largest of them, which was just large enough to hold him. He was lying curled up in the flickering torchlight of the dungeons.

Snape even ventured to say Potter looked…heaven forbid…_cute_…while he slept.

Characteristically, Snape got up with the very large textbook he had assigned his Advanced class. He held it, hovering a few inches to Harry's left, and dropped it so it made a large _thwacking_ sound against the stone floor.

Much to his surprise, Harry kept the illusion of sleep.

'What the hell!?!' thought Snape.

What would he have to do to wake this stupid sod up?

To his utter detesting horror, Snape did lean down to shake Harry "gently" awake. Well, more like shaking baby syndrome on poor Harry, but it was the same thing according to Snape.

Still, Harry didn't wake.

In fact, Snape couldn't even get Harry to stir, which shot a horrible shock of dread down his spine.

"Potter?" he nudged Harry with the toe of his foot. But Harry just snuggled closer to himself and started sucking his thumb.

Snape did not think that was cute. There was no way Snape thought Harry Potter sucking his thumb was cute and adorable. Just no possible way. Just…no.

Maybe just a little bit though, he begrudged.

Then he grabbed Potter's foot and started straightening it out so he could pull the boy out of the cauldron. But no matter how he turned the foot, Potter's body was not moving in accordance to being removed from his cauldron.

'Most unfortunate for Potter,' thought Snape. 'That's my best cauldron.'

He pulled out his wand and send a slight stinging hex at the slumbering Harry.

Still nothing.

Now in came Snape's logical mind at work. 'Why would Harry Potter be unable to wake from sleeping in one of my cauldrons?'

Oh.

He remembered.

Earlier that day, Snape had brewed Sleeping Draughts in that very cauldron for Poppy. Oh…_that_ cauldron. A sudden realization hit Snape. How was he supposed to wake Harry up if he couldn't get the boy out of the cauldron?

What a pickle, or so thought Snape as he paced his classroom floor. There was just no good, clean, wholesome way to get Potter out of his precious cauldron. This is what Snape felt he got for not giving the Weasel-boy the same punishment.

Snape did not want to dwell on why he'd given only Harry detention. Potter! He gave _Potter_ detention!

Grumbling to himself, Snape did ascend to admit that Potter _was_ gorgeous. If not, how did Muggle put it, a sexy god! Nope, Snape would not put it that way, but he did bother to acknowledge he would love to bend Harry Potter over his lap and give him a good spanking.

(AN: Sorry guys. Hehe)

Ummm….so anyways, Snape was standing in the middle of his classroom with an asleep, sex god Harry Potter in his favorite cauldron in which he could do anything he wanted to him whist he remained in the cauldron.

Of course, that would mean Snape would actually have to bend down. A little too much for any Snape to deal with, if you asked him.

With much chagrin, realizing he could not keep Potter there all night, Snape bent on his knees to attempt to pull Harry from his cauldron.

It took the better part of an hour, but Snape finally managed to maneuver the arms by dragging parts of robes and shirt and his legs by pulling on his feet until he had Potter sitting up in a mildly adequate position, out of the cauldron, nonetheless! Snape felt remotely proud of himself for having dealt with such a situation _without_ touching Potter.

Good, greasy, perverted old man. (AN: Strike that thought)

Snape stood back up in the most dignified way he could possibly manage after his knees fell asleep while down, maneuvering Potter. He poked Potter's nose.

"Hello in there, Potter wake up!" Snape yelled into Potter's face.

Harry blinked innocently in his sleepy state of euphoria. He'd just had the best dream where someone was kissing him. Who was it? He couldn't really remember. Wait…he recognized that voice from his dream. Who's yelling at him again?

Snape glared down at him.

"Professor!!" Harry squeaked, shoving himself backwards against the table where he was resting. The floor was cold but Harry tried to get up as if it burned his delicate digits.

He flipped over the table on accident, sending him head over heels, literally, into the cauldron he'd just been pulled out of.

Snape glared.

'Screw this,' he thought.

Bending down at the waist, he drug Potter out of the cauldron and flung him across the room into a not-so-nearby chair.

Harry looked around, thoroughly confused.

"What happened, sir?" Harry asked, looking around with some trepidation. Somehow he had the feeling he'd just been manhandled by his professor. It was one of those dejavu feelings he just couldn't shake, though he did feel very shaken, physically at least.

"You!!" Snape shook in anger. "You are an incompetent FOOL, Mr. Potter!!"

Harry quivered anxiously in his chair. "But, sir…"

"Butt is very correct, Mr. Potter!"

Snape stopped dead at his own voice. What did he just say? He said something stupid? No…he couldn't have. Time to cover his tracks.

"Mr. Potter!!" screamed Snape.

Harry blinked innocently, large eyes glowing dimly against the torchlight. "Yes, sir?" he whispered meekly.

"Come here."

The young Gryffindor padded over to where his professor stood, glaring at him for a second.

"Turn around, Mr. Potter," Snape stated quite clearly.

"What?" Harry fidgeted nervously.

"You're going to get what's coming to you, Mr. Potter." Why was Snape saying his name like that? What was up with this?

Nonetheless, out of fear, or maybe curiosity, Harry turned around. He wondered idly if Snape would ask him to bend over next. However, the next sensation caused him to yelp as the thick potions book swatted him quite forcefully on his rear.

"Hey!" Harry shouted indignantly and with that he ran from the dungeons at top speed.

Already up the stairs, away from the dungeons, Harry realized he hadn't even been dismissed. Though fearing another detention, he didn't return to the dungeons as maybe he should have.

(the next night-in detention)

"Bend over, Mr. Potter."

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Thanks everyone for reading. I know this isn't "persay" a romance fic, but if you guys review lots and want a romance budding in the future, I can see it happening. (with kinky results)

Snape: Please do. I think I would enjoy it.


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